Mary's Path

After making her way between what seemed to be an infinite number of people, she finally arrived at the small butcher shop that her mother always shopped in.

Here, too, the sickness had left its mark. In the window there used to be a display of meat of various kinds. Now there were only a couple of rabbits and a bird that Mary thought was pigeon.

She went into the store, it used to be full of people but because of the high price of meat she was now alone in there. The butcher came out from behind a curtain that led to the back of the store.

“Good day, miss, what will it be today?”

“Good day, sir. I’m looking for hand of pork, you don’t happen to have something like that?” replied Mary.

“Meat has become expensive lately. Do you think you’ll have enough money to buy hands of pork, my friend?” asked the butcher.

“How much does the hands of pork cost per the kilo?” wondered Mary, knowing that she only had 11 kresi left in various hideouts in her dress.

“6 kresi”, the butcher replied, looking at her. Mary swallowed, there was a lot of money for a kilo of hands of pork, and it was largely made up of bones. She thought for a moment about choosing to buy pork belly or maybe some other boneless piece.

But she knew that the best soup was made with hands of pork and that the bone gave flavor and the marrow contained very beneficial substances. Her parents couldn’t eat the meat right now. In addition, pure meat would be more expensive than the cut se wanted. She became aware that butcher was still watching her.

“I could buy 1.5 kilos of hands of pork if you could lower the price to 8 kresi,” she said.

“Miss, there’s a shortage of meat in the city, right now I can set that price as I please,” he said, smiling over his lips.

“It’s possible that the situation is like that, but when the situation changes and there’s plenty of meat in the city again, how are you going to make a living if you chase away all your regular customers for the benefit of the rich?” countered Mary quickly.

“Do you really think those times will come back?” he asked.

“Of course, they will. Nothing lasts forever,” Mary replied, and thought it sounded as if she were old and wise.

The butcher looked at the red-haired, pale girl standing in his shop. She acted old for her age, he thought. But her words worried him nonetheless. Maybe there was some truth in what she said. That’s why he nodded.

“8 kresi and 5 vorm”, he noted. Mary felt it was a great victory and nodded back. He disappeared in behind the curtain and came back with a piece of hands of pork that he carefully weighed and trimmed a little before wrapping it in white paper and handing her the package. She gave him 9 kresi and got 5 vorm back.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, and curtsy.

“Thank you very much. Please come back,” replied the butcher, smiling at the girl who was already on her way out of his shop. Strange child, he thought, as he retreated behind the curtain again.

Mary sat her way home and walked quickly and purposefully. She now had meat and vegetables. She felt proud of what she had achieved during the day and now she just wanted to get home to her parents quickly.

Soon she opened the gate and heard the goats roe. She had to milk them soon, she thought. But first she wanted to check on her parents.

She opened the door and entered the kitchen where she placed the basket on the table before rushing up to the second floor. Her parents were almost the same way she had left them. She went up to the bed and felt their foreheads.

Her mother felt cooler, and her eyes opened quickly as Mary touched her. Mary smiled at her mother and then felt her father’s forehead. His was really cool and Mary felt the hope grow stronger. He just groaned quietly as she gently patted him on the cheek.

Strengthened by new hope, Mary returned down to the kitchen and quickly prepared a large pot of water that she let simmer before adding carrots, onions, pieces of an old turnip, some spices and finally the whole large piece of meat. When she was sure that the pot was softly boiling and that the fire in the stove was good, she went out to milk the two goats.

She was not as good as her mother and from time to time one of the goats managed to kick so that the milk bucket splashed out some milk. But after a while Mary was ready and she gave the goats a little more hay and removed most of the droppings from their stalls.

With the bucket of milk in one hand and the stool in the other, she entered the house. There she drank plenty of milk, it was still lukewarm, and she enjoyed every sip. She put away the rest of the milk and thought she could make pancakes if she gathered some eggs.

The chickens that ran freely in the courtyard always found new hiding places for their eggs. The idea of pancakes made her mouth water so much that she chose to go out instead of checking on her parents.

Mary spent almost an hour looking for eggs. It was a fun job that felt more like a game than work. It’s been so long since she’d been able to play and be carefree that she let herself be engulfed in the hunt for the hidden eggs.

But when she noticed that it was starting to get dark, she thought that the four eggs she had found were enough. She went in and put the eggs in the pantry to get up and check on her parents.

The smell that came from the stove made her stomach growl. But she still went up the stairs. She stoped on the top step. Something was wrong, something wasn’t as is should. Mary didn’t know what it was, but she rushed into the room.